“Palmer talked about the daily fear every time they went on patrol. As he put it, ‘not knowing if today was the day you would die’. He talked about how difficult it was being away from family and friends for such a long time. A six-month tour really takes it out of them all. Palmer also said that they were well aware that when they went home, all they had to look forward to, after an all too short respite, was another six-month tour in Afghanistan. But Palmer felt Solomon was more depressed about it than the other lads. He also described Solomon as very much a family man,” Billy continued. “According to Palmer, he particularly doted on his child, talked about him all the time. Therefore, the cold blooded killing shocked Palmer and the rest of the men. So much so that no one wants to talk about it, as if by ignoring it, they can pretend it hasn’t happened.”
After Billy finished, no one spoke.
Crane eventually broke the silence. “Well, I’m afraid we can’t ignore it and pretend it hasn’t happened.”
Clearing his throat, Captain Edwards addressed the group, “No, quite, but we have investigated and to me the conclusions are clear.”
“Really, sir?”
“Really, Sergeant Major. A clear cut case of murder and then suicide. Very unfortunate but there it is. Cased closed.” Edwards closed his file to make his point.
“For God’s sake!” exploded Crane. “You couldn’t seriously close the file.”
“Sergeant Major, I know you’re upset by this case, but—”
“Upset!” Crane cut in, his head jerking upwards, yet he remained seated, “Of course I’m bloody upset.”
“Sergeant Major!” Edwards shouted, which had the desired effect of shutting Crane up. After dismissing Kim and Billy, the Captain turned on Crane. “Don’t you ever do that to me again and certainly not in front of the rest of the team.”
“Sorry, sir,” conceded Crane, as he struggled to put a lid on his temper for the moment. “It’s just that I really want to find out why. I need to make sure this doesn’t happen again on our garrison.”
“Crane, it’s just a one off. So put the file away and get on with the rest of the cases that need your attention.” Edwards gathered his papers, left the table and turned towards the open office.
“Don’t you care, sir?” Crane called to Edward’s back.
Wheeling round, Edwards insisted, “Of course I bloody care, man. But you have no real evidence to support any theory you’ve come up with. So case closed.”
With that, the Captain left the room. Crane followed, intending to pursue Edwards, but as he glanced around the office, he saw Billy shake his head. Heeding the warning, Crane changed direction and went outside, intent on taking out his frustration on the nearest wall.
Walking around the car park at the front of the Barracks, Crane simmered with rage and frustration. Drawing deeply on a cigarette, he tried to calm down. He understood his Captain’s attitude, but just couldn’t let the case go. The question ‘why’ echoed through his thoughts, but he had no answer.
Just then his mobile rang. Looking at the screen he saw it was Tina. It was unusual for her to ring during the day.
“Yes, love?” he answered.
“Hi, Tom, how’s things?”
“Fine, fine, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing at all, in fact it’s good news.” Crane could hear the happiness bubbling in her voice.
“What good news?” asked Crane, trying hard to ignore the fear building in the pit of his stomach.
“I’ve just had a meeting with personnel. The maternity pay and benefits are great and they’ve assured me maternity leave won’t hinder my future promotion prospects – isn’t that fabulous?”
Crane looked around the car park, hoping for someone to come and call for him. But no one appeared. He was alone, being forced to face his fears. He realised he was holding his breath.
“Tom?”
“Sorry, love, someone was trying to attract my attention,” he lied. “I can’t really talk now. But yes, it’s great news,” he continued, trying his best to inject a lighter tone into his voice. “We’ll talk about it tonight.”
Clearly deflated, Tina’s voice dropped to a whisper, “Oh, okay then. Sorry to have disturbed you.”
Shit, now look what I’ve done, Crane thought and tried to retrieve the situation by saying, “Sorry, Tina, it really is good news. Let’s have a good talk tonight and make some plans together. Love you.”
“Love you too,” Tina said, her flat tone devoid of emotion, belying the words. “Bye.”
And with that she broke the connection. Leaving Crane alone in the car park. Leaning his back against the wall, he closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. Sliding down to sit on the floor, he put his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.
Chapter Nine
Crane’s mobile phone rang again, stopping any further wallowing in self-pity as he listened to the voice of his Captain.
“Crane, there’s a problem. Fire at 26 Mason Street. Possible arson and we’ve a missing person. As you haven’t got anything more pressing on at the moment, I want you to go over there and check it out.”
“Sir,” Crane acknowledged the order, ignoring the jibe. He closed the phone and returned to the office to find Billy. He didn’t like it one bit, but an order was an order and the Crooks case was clearly out of bounds.
Entering the office, he called, “Fire at a house on the garrison, come on, Billy,” and they both ran to Crane’s car.
Aldershot Garrison was slowly being enveloped in mist coming off the low lying playing fields as Crane and Billy drove along Queens Avenue. Fingers of grey grasped at their car as they turned right and drove into the housing estate located at the top edge of the garrison, near North Camp. The gathering gloom of early evening was split by the glow of the fire coming from a nearby street.
Abandoning the car at the top of Mason Street, Crane and Billy threaded their way past RMP cars, fire engines and snaking hoses. A cluster of uniformed men were talking at a safe distance from the burning house and at their approach, one of them detached himself from the group.
“Sir.” Staff Sergeant Jones acknowledged Crane and nodded at Billy. Jones was in uniform, but minus his cap, so his nearly bald head gleamed in the light of the fire.
“What’s up here then?” Crane pointed in the direction of the house fire. “How come the Adjutant called us out?”
“Because we believe Sergeant Barnes is in there,” Jones replied. “At least according to his hysterical wife he is. She had to be pulled away before she plunged into the house to find him. She’d just got back from a visit to her sister and found the house ablaze. We’ve evacuated the adjoining houses and the fire brigade reckon they have it under control.”
Crane shivered in the damp of the early evening, rubbing the mist out of his short dark hair and then his short dark beard.
He turned to look at the house, where indeed the firemen seemed to have the blaze under control. The flames had subsided and firemen in breathing apparatus were preparing to go inside. The damage didn’t look too bad from the front of the house and Crane saw that the street contained a neat row of semi-detached houses. There were no driveways, just small front gardens with short pathways leading to the front doors. He knew there were garages at the rear of the houses, with access through the back gardens.
Turning to look at Jones he asked, “So what do we know about Sergeant Barnes?”
“Career soldier, done over 12 years so far. Been at Aldershot for the past two. Responsible for the St Omer Barracks Stores. In his late 30’s, married but no children.”
“And he can’t be found?”
“No, looks like the silly sod must be inside. He finished work around 17:00 hours. Apparently he wasn’t known for frequenting the mess after work, so it’s probable he followed his normal routine and went straight home.”
“The firemen are coming back out, sir,” Billy interrupted.
As they waited for the fire officer to come and
brief them, Crane lit up.
“Bad for you, those, sir,” murmured Billy. As Crane turned to look at him, he saw Billy’s open boyish features crease into a grin, his shock of blond hair falling over his forehead as usual.
“Don’t think they’ll do me much harm tonight, not with all this smoke around,” laughed Crane. His laughter was also tinged with relief. He was glad to be investigating again after what he perceived as a failure with the Crooks case.
Their mood became more sombre as the fire officer approached.
“Found a body,” he confirmed. “At the back of the house in the kitchen. Looks like that was the seat of the fire. Sorry but I can’t tell you anymore until the house is safe and we can do a proper investigation and get a pathologist in there. That might not be until tomorrow morning.”
“Fair enough,” said Crane. Effectively dismissing the fire officer by turning his back on him, he turned his attention to Staff Sergeant Jones.
“Make sure the scene is secure and keep the rest of the houses evacuated. Alert the local police,” he ordered, “because of the body. I’ll be back tomorrow morning when I can enter the house.”
Crane dismissed Billy and went home to face Tina, cold fingers of guilt over their telephone conversation still playing across the back of his neck. He hoped telling her about his new case would avoid any more discussion about having children. All he wanted was to get out of his smoke filled clothes and have a hot bath.
***
The next day saw Crane back at the scene. His plan last night had worked and Tina had been solicitous and caring, agreeing that it would be best to put their conversation about children and their finances on hold, conceding that she hadn’t had time to put the information from the Personnel Department into their budget forecasts yet. With that domestic matter dealt with, Crane pushed it to the back of his mind and concentrated on the case in hand.
He met the pathologist coming out of the front door of the Barnes’ house. “Morning, Major. What have you got for me, sir?”
“Well, one body inside, pretty certain it’s Sergeant Barnes, but as you can appreciate, the fire damage to the body is considerable.” The Major pealed the latex gloves off each hand, managing to make the snapping of the rubber sound professional.
“Where is he?”
“Where the firemen found him yesterday. Still in the kitchen, at the back of the house. We’re just about to move him.”
“Give me a minute in there,” Crane said, more of a statement than a request.
“Be my guest,” replied the Major, turning away to get the body bag and stretcher organised. “You can’t go upstairs though, it’s not safe,” he called over his shoulder.
Crane entered the house. Before investigating the kitchen and inspecting the body, he walked into the lounge, which was immediately on his right. Despite the smoke and water damage, the furniture and fittings were mostly intact. A couple of paintings still hung on the wall, although a bit crisp at the edges. They were nothing to write home about, just something to put on the walls rather than well-chosen artistic pieces, even to Crane’s untrained eye. The three-piece suite was old fashioned, large and chunky, a mixture of wood and fabric, with a coffee table and side tables dotted alongside the sofa and two chairs. A large writing bureau stood under the front window, the top filled with pictures. Crane walked over to scrutinise them and found they were all of Sergeant Barnes at various stages in his army career. There were no pictures of Mrs Barnes, he noted with some surprise. Looking through other people’s homes made Crane feel like a voyeur. A ghost-like figure, intruding into private spaces, stealing impressions of their lives.
Crane walked back through the hall into the large kitchen/diner, to see what remained of Sergeant Barnes. The body was on the floor, close to the door that opened into the back garden. The smell, which had been present in the front room, was now cloying, draping over him like a blanket. Crane put a handkerchief to his mouth and nose as the stench stabbed at him, stifling his breathing and blurring his vision.
Barnes was unrecognisable from his photographs. Facial features had melted away leaving a prominent jaw and teeth, frozen in an agonised scream. He was lying on his back, with arms raised and bent across his body. There were only small fragments of clothing left. Melted flesh and fat had long since congealed and become solid again, in all the wrong places. A horrible death. Crane had heard stories from older colleagues about men melting into the metal of the Sir Galahad, in front of their eyes, during the Falkland’s War. Now he understood that they only kept such images at bay through sheer willpower. Employing that tactic himself, he ripped his gaze from the body.
Looking around the kitchen, Crane was struck by the greyness. The units that hadn’t been burned and turned into grey ash were coated with it, leaving the kitchen looking as if Vesuvius had recently erupted in the vicinity. The walls and floor were black with smoke damage. The door to the garden was partially destroyed by the fire and partially by the fire brigade, similarly the windows. Turning away, Crane left the house and met Major Martin returning to retrieve the body.
“When will you be able to do the post mortem?” Crane realised he still had his handkerchief clenched in his fist, but couldn’t seem to uncurl it.
“Oh, tomorrow morning, first thing.”
“Good. Briefing at 12:00 hours tomorrow, in the SIB office…sir.”
Ignoring the quizzical look on the Major’s face, caused by his habit of effectively giving a superior officer an order, Crane left the scene, trying not to run, anxious to put the horror behind him. Returning to Provost Barracks he spoke to Staff Sergeant Jones and telephoned the fire officer and DI Anderson, directing them to be present at the meeting as well.
Chapter Ten
The following day Crane waited whilst everyone settled themselves at the briefing. He asked the Fire Officer to give his report first. He confirmed the initial suspicion that the seat of the fire was Sergeant Barnes himself. Evidence of an accelerant, most probably petrol was found. Crane wanted to know why the body was so badly charred. The Fire Officer explained that when a body burns, first the thin outer layers of skin fry and begin to peel off, as the flames dance across the surface. After a few minutes, the thicker dermal layer of skin shrinks and begins to split. This allows the underlying yellow fat to leak out. The clothes Sergeant Barnes was wearing then acted as a wick. This meant that the small pieces of cloth absorbed the fat and pulled it into the flames, where it vaporised and burned. In his opinion, for the body to be that badly burned in such a short period of time, the accelerant was most likely on the body itself, rather than close to it.
Major Martin was next. He confirmed the body they found was that of Sergeant Barnes and his death had been caused by the fire. After a couple of low sniggers from somewhere in the room, which he completely ignored, he went on to explain that there was no evidence of gunshot wounds or stab wounds on the body. However, there was smoke damage to the throat and lungs indicating that Sergeant Barnes was alive when he was set on fire. His arms were raised and bent, most probably because the heat of the fire caused muscles to dry out and contract. This made the limbs move and adopt characteristic postures, such as the position they found Sergeant Barnes in.
Crane broke the silence that followed by thanking the Fire Officer and the Major for their reports and they both left the meeting.
“Bloody hell,” mumbled Billy, as he ran his hand through his hair.
“Bloody hell indeed, lad,” agreed Jones.
“Right, what else have we got, Jones?” Crane was determined they should get on with the job and not dwell on the horror of Sergeant Barnes’ death.
“Two possible leads. Local kids on the garrison have been making a bit of a nuisance of themselves. Riding around on bikes and being a bit lippy. Sergeant Barnes was very upset about it and the more he tried to stop them, the more the kids took pleasure in winding him up.”
“How do you know about this?”
“Barnes made a couple of com
plaints to the RMPs, but to be honest we didn’t take him too seriously. Thought he was over reacting.”
“And the second one?”
“As you know, Barnes was in charge of the stores at St Omar Barracks. He had suspicions about a couple of lads pilfering stuff. Nothing major, but again it wound him up. He gave us the nod, but without any evidence there wasn’t much we could do.”
“Barnes seemed to get wound up a lot, wouldn’t you say?” observed Billy.
“Looks that way,” agreed Crane. “Leave the details of those two cases with me would you, Jones?”
“But…” Jones blustered, “is that really necessary? The lads and I can follow them up.”
“We’ll look into them,” Crane said, emphasising each word as though Jones was either deaf or stupid. “This is a Branch investigation now.”
Mumbling something under his breath, Jones left.
“If I need you, I’ll let you know,” Crane called to Jones’ retreating back.
“I’ll be off then as well,” DI Anderson said, attempting to control his flyaway hair by running a hand through it. “These two leads are about incidents on the garrison, so I’m happy to leave things with you, Crane.” Anderson stood. “But don’t forget to keep me in the loop. A charge of arson and possibly even murder could be the outcome of your investigation, which will put the responsibility firmly back with the police.”
“Understood, Derek.”
Crane and Billy then spent the rest of the day setting up their investigation and making sure everyone, including Staff Sergeant Jones, was fully briefed.
***
Crane decided to take the second allegation first, so the next morning they went to St Omer Barracks Stores at the appointed time of 10:00 hours. Looking through the glass in the large double entrance doors, they observed two men lounging around inside, chatting away and at times laughing out loud. Books and papers were scattered over the counter, but being studiously ignored. Both men looked untidy with creased uniforms, their hair just a bit too long. Crane put them both in their early 20’s.
Deadly Duty Box Set 1 (Sgt Major Crane Crime Thrillers Box Set) Page 5
